


we are not gods yet

by soupmetaphors



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Au of sorts, Other, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupmetaphors/pseuds/soupmetaphors
Summary: Some legends burn out with time. And others ascend higher, higher than the sky itself.





	

A thousand, _two_ thousand years after the Dead Men die, their names stick out in the history of magic, in between the wars fought, the death of more heroes, more nameless soldiers, the losses, and the oft bittersweet victories.

A thousand, _two_ thousand years after their images remain in the Sanctuary, life-sized images that stare stoically into the distance, that seem nothing and everything like them, people start to put their names back on the lips of the public. Start leaving little candles at the base of the wall, start whispering in times of trouble.

 _Protect me, Valkyrie Cain, let my blows be swift and my intentions true_ , the children of sorcerers pray, the younger Sanctuary agents, her name sweet like peaches on their tongue. _Protect me from myself, and may I never falter._

 _Bless my anger, Anton Shudder, bless my sharpness, bless the blood my enemies bleed, bless my bleeding knuckles._ The Midnight Hotel runs under a new owner, yet people swear they’ve seen a gaunt man sitting behind the desk in the middle of the night, flipping through the ledger. _Bless the bile and the curses I spit, bless this dark beast roaring in my chest._

 _Saracen Rue, we know things. We know things._ Sorcerers, so unsure, turn to the one figure who knew all (but not enough, they always forget that), who still may know a few things. _Let me get out of this fight alive, let me know, know, know this truth, this way to survive. Let this knowledge be mine, let me_ know _things._

 _My hand shall not falter, for Dexter Vex guides me, and his aim is mine._ Energy-throwers caught in corners, trapped by enemies, praying as their palms sweat, as their eyes dart and look for the exit. _Let my aim be true, and bless this energy, that it may cut my enemies down to fucking slivers._

Spies whisper another name under their breath, slipping through enemy lines, always looking for the knife that might come for their backs. _Ghastly Bespoke, hold my loyalty true, protect me from the backstabbers, from the blades in the dark, from anyone who dares hurt a goddamn hair on my friends family colleagues head, may my heart never betray me._

 _Skulduggery Pleasant,_ the older Sanctuary agents think, surveying crime scenes, running down alleys, looking over paperwork. _Bless my magic, and let me fear no one for I am the most dangerous goddamn thing, bless your bones, and bless the paths I walk, for my eyes are sharp and my tongue sharper._

Those without faces, always in the shadows, one name constantly linking them. _May the shadows of Hopeless hide me, may he protect me from the light, bless this face, and bless this darkness, and bless those who see me as I are not, for it is as I will._

The young soldiers, dancing around campfires, still clinging to shreds of innocence. _May the spirit of Larrikin hold me, may his volatility be mine, may his laughter be my sword and shield, may my magic be as wild as his eyes, and my steps as light as his._

Even the outcast have their prayer, slipping on their masks, deceitful smiles growing larger and hungrier. _I shall fear nothing for Erskine Ravel walks in my shadow, and his lies are mine, may those golden eyes watch my back and may his hands keep my façade on, keep my lies golden and strong._

A thousand, _two_ thousand years before, the Dead Men walked and laughed and told themselves they were living legends- What more would they be, having touched the pinnacle of glory?

 _We are not gods_ , they had decided. _Not yet._


End file.
